Stolen Moments
by laloga
Summary: Just some short scenes featuring Stonewall, a clone trooper, and a certain Jedi knight, who you may or may not recognize. Fun, fluffy, pseudo-romantic; hopefully they'll make you smile! Mr. Lucas owns the 'verse; I own Kali and Stonewall.
1. Euphemism

_Author's note: I wrote these little drabbles just to have some sweet, fluffy scenes between my OC's, the Jedi Kalinda and the clone trooper Stonewall; basically, I wanted to write something happy and fun and totally devoid of that tricky rascal called "plot." They all take place during my other fics, which you are encouraged to check out, but don't need to have read to get the gist of what's going on. As always, reviews are appreciated; overall, please just enjoy! _

**Euphemism**

The _Intrepid _slipped through the hyperspace lane, plummeting through the sheets of starlight towards Coruscant. Stonewall sat in the mess hall with some of the men, playing sabacc and loosing badly, though, to be fair, he wasn't really concentrating on the cards before him. His mind was elsewhere, specifically on the dark eyes of a particular Jedi that he'd met only days ago, a woman who was presently seated several tables across from him and the other men, chatting with General Kenobi. Though he couldn't hear what they were saying, Stonewall could make out the curve of her smile and the animated movement of her arms as she recounted something to the bearded man, who was watching her with amusement.

"You're going to be cleaning our kits for the rest of your life."

Stonewall glanced at Bolt, his brother who was sitting opposite him at the table, regarding him with a curious expression. Looking down, he realized that his attention had slipped and he was in the hole for a month's worth of tedious chores. None of his cards promised to offer him any relief, so he shrugged and set his hand down. "Luck isn't with me today, I guess."

Bolt nudged Neon, the clone beside him and raised his thumb at Stonewall. "His head's somewhere else."

Neon's eyebrows lifted. "I think I can guess where." All of the clones, except Stonewall, glanced at the Jedi, who were completely engrossed in their own conversation. "She's a looker alright."

"She's a General," Stonewall heard himself mutter. "A Jedi. Mind your tone."

"Didn't mean to offend, Lieutenant," Neon said, raising his hands. "Just kidding around. No need to get so snippy." He and Bolt exchanged knowing looks and Stonewall frowned as they snickered.

After a moment Bolt shook his head. "Leave him alone, Neon. Do you blame him? How many women have _you _been around?" He looked back at Stonewall. "General or not, she's easy on the eyes."

Stonewall reached for the deck and began to shuffle, the cards sliding through his hands easily. "She's our CO and deserves to be treated with more respect than that," he said, his voice firm. "Besides, they can hear far more than we can, you know," he added. "I wouldn't be surprised if they can hear everything that we've been saying." He took no small amount of satisfaction in the nervous expressions that came across the faces of his brothers as they considered this fact.

Finally Bolt stood up and nodded to them. "I think I'll turn in. May as well enjoy the downtime, eh?"

Neon watched him go before chuckling and raising a brow at Stonewall. "Five creds says he's off to calibrate his Deece."

Stonewall rolled his eyes but made no response. He held up the cards but his brother shook his head. "Think I'll head off too. 'Night."

There was a few minutes where he sat alone, wondering if he should go to bed as well, but something made him pause; finally, he glanced to his side and realized that General Kenobi had gone, leaving General Halcyon alone as she sipped a cup of tea. He felt his cheeks redden as she caught his eye and smiled, rising from her chair to come and take the seat across from him. "Feel like a game?"

He glanced at the cards in his hands and nodded. "I should warn you," he said. "The others pretty much cleaned me out."

She shrugged and extended her hands for the cards. "Just for fun." He watched as she shuffled the deck: the cards seemed to fly from hand to hand seemingly on their own. She smiled at his expression and put a finger to her lips. "Keep it under your hat that I'm using the Force for such a lowly purpose, okay?"

"I don't really wear hats, General."

She laughed openly at this. "You're right, Stone. I'm sorry...keep it under your helmet, then." At his confused expression she smiled again as she laid the stack of cards in front of him. "Just cut the deck."

He did; she dealt them each five cards and they were silent for a moment while they each looked over their hands. He had fared better under her dealing than previously, though he had his doubts as to whether or not he could beat a Jedi at this-or any- game. As if she could sense his thoughts-which, upon later reflection, she probably could-the General frowned at the cards in her hand. "Wow. This is the worst hand I've ever seen." She glanced up at him. "You?"

"It's okay," he admitted. "Better than before, with the others." He risked a glance at her and was startled to see that she was regarding him with interest. "I lost pretty badly," he explained. "I'll be doing chores for a month."

"That's how it goes sometimes," she replied, discarding two cards and selecting two more. By her expression they were little better than the last ones, if not worse. "Lucky I wasn't playing then," she said. "Else I'd be doing all of those chores. This is ridiculous." She turned her cards to his. "Have you seen one this bad?"

They were pretty terrible, but he was grinning at the fact that she was showing them to him without reservation. "Not really, General." In response, he set down his own hand and glanced at her as she realized that he'd won the round. "Another?"

She nodded and began gathering the cards again, offering them to him to shuffle but he declined, eager to watch her use the Force again. "Stone," she said after she'd dealt the cards. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly, General," he replied, straightening in his seat. "Anything."

There was a pause while she seemed to consider something before she looked up at him. "Let me preface this by saying that I don't normally eavesdrop on other's conversations, but, well..." She frowned. "Much of your terminology is still new to me, but I'd like to learn, if you don't mind."

_She knew we were talking about her,_ he thought, his skin growing hot. _That's not good. _He cleared his throat. "Ask away, General."

"When...Neon left," she said his name hesitantly, looking to Stonewall for confirmation that it was correct. He nodded and she continued. "When he left the table, Bolt said something about...calibrating a deese? What in the stars does that mean?"

_Sithspit. _Of all the topics of conversation in the galaxy, this was probably the very last one that he wanted to have with her. "Deece," he corrected, hoping to sidestep the issue. "It's an abbreviation for our DC-15 blasters."

She nodded. "I gathered as much, but Bolt's tone indicated some kind of...inside joke, I suppose." Her face was open with curiosity. "Do they need to be calibrated often? Is it some kind of...equipment malfunction?"

Stonewall was certain that his face was completely red at this point, but she made no indication that she noticed. He cleared his throat and pulled at the edges of his body glove that he wore beneath his armor. "Er...not exactly."

"Then what does it mean?"

_Maybe I'll get lucky and the ship will get fired on or something, _he thought, taking a deep breath. _A pirate attack or droid ship would be nice right now._ However, the ship continued to move through hyperspace unmolested, and he knew that he just had to go for it. "It's a...euphemism, sir," he said at last.

"A euphemism," she repeated. "For what?"

"Well," he said, shifting in his seat. _When did it get so blazing hot in here? _"It's kind of...a code for...er...spending some _time _alone. Some personal time. Alone." He couldn't meet her eyes but he was hoping that she'd understand.

The General tilted her head, considering. "Subtlety is lost on me, Stone. I'm afraid I don't understand. Alone? Can't you calibrate a weapon in public?"

"Er...not like this, General," he replied. His voice sounded strange in his ears. "It's a pretty...ah, _personal _thing. Something you do in private. Alone." _Please don't make me elaborate any more, _he thought.

She met his eyes for a moment before he saw spots of pink appear at her cheeks. "Ah," she said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "I see." Her hand moved to her forehead; she was shaking her head. "Learn something new everyday, I suppose." Dark eyes met his own as she smiled at him, her face flushed. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get it, but thanks for explaining, Stone."

He swallowed. "Anytime, General."

_Note: Thanks to Wookieepedia for the extensive list of SW slang that initiated the idea for this ficlet. Heh...clearly, I'm a twelve year old boy trapped in the body of a grown woman. _


	2. The Dance

_Thanks for your reviews! It means so much to me to know that people are enjoying these! :)_

**The Dance**

Though they were known for their strict adherence to propriety and protocol, the Mandalorians did enjoy their celebrations and after the Duchess Satine's safe return to Sundari in the hands of the Jedi, one of her counselors had opted to throw a lavish-if hastily thrown together-ball in the Jedi's honor. It was a request that they had not been able to get out of with any real grace, though Kalinda and Obi-Wan had certainly tried. But the Duchess was firm in her resolve to properly thank the Jedi for their efforts, despite their protests.

So it was because of all this that Stonewall found himself at his first fete, standing with Commander Cody in the corner of the massive throne room watching the various and sundry couples twirling on the polished marble floor. A series of delicate, hovering chandeliers gave the room a soft glow, though the resulting light that glinted off of the sparkling headdresses of noblewomen and the crystal goblets was mildly distracting. There were dozens of people in the room, not including the guards stationed at every entrance, and the thrum of conversation nearly drowned out the lilting music of the string ensemble that had been hired for the evening.

To detract from the presence of the Republic military, both clones were dressed in traditional Mandalorian formal wear: rich cobalt tunics and matching trousers with polished black boots. "And I thought I was done wearing civilian clothes once we got back," Stonewall remarked as he declined yet another fizzing drink from one of the ubiquitous servers and their silver platters. "Shows what I know."

Cody had opted to take a glass, though he'd only sipped from it once. "I know what you mean. But General Kenobi's right: if we were in our armor, we'd stick out a lot more. And it's important to keep a low profile here." They stood more or less at ease as they observed the party-goers. Most of the Mandalorians were a tall people, fair of skin and hair with a certain refined bearing that could be considered almost regal. From what Stonewall could tell, the current fashion appeared to be the rich jewel-tones of amethyst, emerald, sapphire and ruby; the colors were found everywhere from the silken hangings draped along the walls , to the cloths that covered the tables set to either side of the polished floor, to the gown of the Duchess herself, who was presently deep in a heated discussion with General Kenobi and Prime Minister Almec.

The string quartet was in the corner opposite them, playing a light melody that Stone didn't recognize, though he found that he was starting to enjoy music more than he ever had. Perhaps learning some of the mechanics behind it had that effect, as his lessons with Kalinda had progressed to cover some basic musical theory. _General Halcyon, _he chided himself. _The mission's over; no more calling her by her first name. It's inappropriate and overly familiar. _At the thought of the dark-haired Jedi, his eyes scanned the room again, but she was nowhere to be found.

Cody sipped his drink again and gave a sigh. "This is a little too fancy for me," he said, eying the bubbling drink. "Give me a good, stiff Toydarian whiskey any day."

"I agree," Stone replied. "And I wouldn't mind a bite to eat, either."

"I think I saw one of those fellows with the platters heading that direction," the Commander replied, nodding towards the far side of the room. "Mind grabbing me something while you're at it?"

Stonewall nodded and set off in the direction his superior had indicated, relieved to be the move with a purpose, though trivial. Standing around at a party was certainly _not _one of the things his extensive training had covered and he was tired of being the recipient of the mistrustful glances of the Mandalorians. However, when he reached the other side there was no sign of any food, though he did find a curved doorway that appeared to lead out of the lavish room and toward an open area that he remembered as being something called "Peace Park." A glance back in the direction of the ball to take in the press of well-dressed civilians was all it took to make him step into the cool night air, nodding to the guard whose eyes raked over him once before flicking away in dismissal.

There were a few people strolling on the platform that encompassed most of the park; an island of sand and carefully shaped trees filled the center of the area with smaller strips of landscaped terrain on either side of the formation. The ground below his feet was translucent, allowing him to make out the vague shapes of people below, though there were not many civilians out at this point in the evening. As was his habit, he scanned the area looking for potential threats or points of trouble, but everything seemed calm enough. A bubble of laughter rose up from a couple as they passed him, their arms around one another as they made their way back into the brightness of the palace.

Stonewall paused to study one of the spiraling shrubs at the edge of the park. _How strange that someone would take the time and effort to coax a plant to grow in such a way,_ he thought, looking over the carefully sculpted leaves and twining branches. _And for what purpose?_

"Why hello there."

The sound of Kalinda's voice made him start; he looked up to see her sitting on the steps that lead to a lower section of the park, watching him with amusement. Since her Jedi robes had been left on Coruscant due to the covert nature of their mission, she'd been wearing Mandalorian garb and tonight was no different. Her dress was a deep plum color, her shoulders were exposed and her hair was down, falling across her back as she turned to regard him. He straightened and saluted. "Apologies, General. Didn't see you." Even as the words left his mouth they sounded clumsy and foolish, and he only hoped that she didn't notice.

Rather than respond immediately, she indicated that he should come join her, so he did, taking a seat next to her and facing the glittering city laid out before them. "Didn't feel like socializing?" she asked after a moment.

"I feel a bit out of place in there," he replied. "Everything is very...shiny."

She gave a small chuckle. "I know what you mean. And it's a little too crowded for my liking." There was an edge to her words that he didn't quite understand. Her dark eyes met his. "Are you hungry? I managed to grab some kind of appetizer before I came out here." He nodded and she passed him a plate of something small and fragile-looking, though it was deliciously crispy when he bit into it. She took one as well and they sat for a few minutes, savoring the food.

"They have a knack for tasty food, at least," he said after a moment. "Sir."

"For the love of all that is holy, Stone," she said with a sigh. "Just call me Kalinda, or Kali. General is so formal and, to be honest, 'sir' kind of bothers me. Not that 'ma'm' would be any better, but just stick with my name for now, okay?"

He swallowed the last bite of the food and nodded. "As you wish, Kali."

"Much better," she said with a laugh. "Thank you." Neither of them spoke for a few moments until she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she gazed at the city. "It's hard to believe that we were running for our lives through those very streets a few days ago," she said after a moment. She glanced at him. "Though I wouldn't mind being stuck in the middle of the desert again if it meant I didn't have to parlay with all of those politicians."

"I'm not sure I follow, Gen-" he winced. "Kalinda. The Mandalorians seem decent enough."

"Oh they are," she replied. "Very dignified and elegant, which is why I feel like I stand out so much." She shrugged. "Obi-Wan fits in rather well, but he's always been better with those types than I have."

"I thought my ears were burning." They both turned to see General Kenobi approaching, dressed in his Jedi robes. He nodded to Stone but all of his attention was focused on Kali as she smiled up at him. "I wondered where you'd gotten to," he said, his hands clasped behind his back. "You should be in there, you know. They did throw this little party in our honor."

"_Little party_?" she replied. "Did you see the hovering chandeliers? One of those could feed a family on Duros for three standard years." He raised his eyebrow at her and she sighed. "Alright. I'm coming." She rose to follow him, nodding to the remaining bites of food on the platter. "Stone, you should take that to Cody. No point in letting them go to waste." With that she and the other Jedi headed back inside, their heads bent together as they spoke in hushed tones.

* * *

Some time later, Stonewall found himself stuck in the middle of an awkward conversation between two younger members of one of Mandalore's lesser houses, fielding incredibly personal questions about the GAR and the clones.

"Is it true that you're all modified so that you can't reproduce?" The younger of the two, a blonde lad named Fane asked. He couldn't have been more than seventeen years old, and his thin face gave the impression that someone had pinched the sides of his head when he was born.

The other, Fane's cousin, was a girl named Orphe; blonde as well with a marginally more normal looking face though she appeared to be rather intoxicated as she leaned forward, nudging her younger cousin aside to get a better look at Stone. "I heard on the holonet that you don't experience any kind of ….stimulation at all," she slurred. "Is _that _true?"

Stone glanced around the room, searching for Cody, but the commander was nowhere to be seen. He looked back at the Mandalorians who were studying him as if he were in a specimen jar and frowned. "I-"

"_There _you are, Captain!" Kalinda appeared suddenly between him and the Mandalorians, her face stern. "I've been looking everywhere for you." She glanced at the cousins, her tone apologetic. "I'm afraid that I'll need him back at once; an urgent situation has come up that needs our attention." Stone gave a curt nod to them as she led him through the throng of people away from the prying gazes of the cousins.

"What's wrong?" he asked when they were out of earshot.

She laughed. "Nothing. You just looked like you needed a rescue." She glanced at him, her brow raised. "You'll have to tell me what they were asking you one day." They had made their way across the room, and he could see Cody and General Kenobi talking to another Mandalorian, a much older man that he didn't recognize. There was a break in the music and the crowd began to dissipate from the floor, making their way to the sides of the room. As if on cue, the elderly Mandalorian glanced up and smiled at Kalinda, holding his glass aloft as he beckoned to her.

When she spotted them, Kalinda gave a sharp curse under her breath and looked at him. "Dance with me," she said suddenly, putting her hand on his arm as the music started up again. At his look of bewilderment she moved her head to indicate the fellow that had been speaking with the Jedi and was watching her with barely concealed interest. "Cyrek-one of the Duchess' advisors. He's been after me to dance all night, but his breath smells like a dead gundark."

There was a moment of confusion when Stonewall didn't know what to do with his hands until she placed his left hand in her right one, with his right hand behind her back and her left hand at his shoulder. "I've never danced before," he said to her as they started to move. "So I'm going to apologize in advance if I step on your feet."

She grinned at him. "Just relax and follow my lead." Indeed, it wasn't difficult once he got the hang of it. Gentle pressure from her hands and arms indicated the correct way to step and the movement of their feet was a simple enough rhythm to follow, especially in time with the music; gradually, Stonewall found that he was indeed relaxing, actually starting to enjoy the ball. He said something-he didn't recall what, later on-that made her toss back her head and laugh; he found that he was captivated by the movement of her throat as she did so, by the way that the light from the chandeliers cast her skin in a golden glow and glinted off of her dark hair, and by the warm press of her skin against his.

Far too early, the song ended; when they moved to leave the floor they were met by General Kenobi standing patiently by, watching her with a faint smile on his face. "Not tired, are you?" he asked her, extending his hand.

"Not in the least. Stone here was just doing me a favor by keeping me too busy to dance with Cyrek." Casting Stonewall another smile she reached for the general's hand. "Thanks, Stone. I owe you one."

He watched as the Jedi made their way to the floor before turning back to search for Cody, finding him seated at one of the tables, a platter of food spread out before him. At his approach, the Commander nodded to the Captain, indicating that he should take a seat next to him. "You know, these things aren't so bad," Cody said after a moment, biting in to a particularly savory looking piece of something fried.

Stonewall could still feel her hand in his as he reached for a morsel. "You can say that again, Commander."


	3. Agamar

**Agamar**

"Have you been to Agamar before, Captain?" Kalinda's voice was almost drowned out by the drone of their transport as it plummeted through the atmosphere, carrying the platoon to the battle that was raging below.

Stonewall shook his head, gripping one of the handles that extended from the ceiling as they were jostled by a particularly rough bout of turbulence. "Can't say that I have. You?"

She shook her head. "I've always wanted to, though," she said. The walls jarred around them and everyone tightened their grip on the handholds. "Not in this capacity, of course, but the sunrises and sunsets are supposed to be spectacular," she added, peering out of the slit of a window that was beside her; there was only gray beyond them, but more than that was impossible to make out.

"After we touch down," she said, her voice pitched to carry over the din. "We're to make contact with General Skywalker's platoon and offer him some support while he carries out the mission." Suddenly, there was a tremendous _boom _outside the transport, the subsequent turbulence causing many of Stonewall's men to loose their balance; Kalinda's hand slipped from her grip on the railing but he was able to catch her in his arms before she fell to the floor. She looked up at him, her mouth opening as if to speak when her comm blinked, the image of General Skywalker appearing within moments.

"It's too hot to land here, General Halcyon," the younger man said, fending off blaster fire as he spoke. "Pick another landing site."

She frowned. "Site B, then, though it will put us a little far from your position for my liking." Her gaze shifted to the outside of the transport, where the clouds were rushing by, and Stonewall felt a flicker of apprehension from her.

Skywalker deflected another volley. "It'll have to do. See you dirtside." The transmission ended and she looked up at Stonewall; at the same instant, both of them realized that he was still holding her. His hands lifted from her torso and she stepped back to her former position, using the short-range frequency on her comm to relay the information to the others.

Stonewall glanced at his men, identical with or without their helmets and armor. "It's going to be hot, boys, but you can do this." He glanced back at Kalinda, who seemed hesitant. "I know you can."

Her answering smile was tight and did not reach her eyes.

* * *

Upon their landing, it was as if the sky had opened up, releasing a torrent of rain and wind that did not let up until late the next day. It was twenty-six grueling, sodden hours before they were able to reach Skywalker's position and drive the tinnies back enough to catch a few hours' rest, the clone platoons taking cover beneath the shelter of an ancient grove of binka trees. Though he was exhausted, Stonewall made sure that any of his men who were wounded received proper care and that everyone got something to eat before he grabbed a few rations for himself. Kalinda was deep in discussion with General Skywalker and a holographic projection of several members of the Jedi Council, so he took a seat on a nearby fallen tree and surveyed the planet.

Though the forest was thick here, he could see a break in the cover to the left, the sky visible beyond. A glance at the chrono in his helmet-synched with the planet-told him that dusk was approaching, though the sky was gray and overcast. _No sunset tonight, I guess, _he thought, glancing in Kalinda's direction again. She was gesturing to the Council, her face a study in composure though he could see that she was agitated. General Skywalker didn't look pleased either, and Stonewall wondered briefly what they were debating. _Jedi business, _he thought firmly. _Not for me to concern myself with. _But his eyes kept sliding back to where she was.

Finally the transmission ended, though the two Jedi were still speaking to one another. Stonewall resisted the temptation to adjust the settings on his helmet so he could hear what they were saying, instead trying to remain inconspicuous and detached. His heart kicked up a beat or two when the Jedi parted ways and Kalinda glanced over at him before approaching. Her dark hair, which she'd tried to keep out of her face with a braid, had come more or less loose and was falling about her slumped shoulders; mud and dirt stains were splattered across her tunic and boots; her movements were heavy as she walked.

She took a seat beside him on the tree and shook her head at his offer of rations, her chin in her hand as she stared at something in the distance. They were silent for a few minutes before she glanced at him. "Are your men okay? I didn't see any anyone fall who didn't get up."

He nodded. "A few bruises and nicks-Boxer sprained his wrist-but otherwise we're fine."

"Good," she replied, gathering up her hair and attempting to collect it back into some semblance of order. As the hair was pulled back from her face, he noticed that she had a large, ugly bruise on her left cheek, just above her jawline.

"What happened to you?"

She looked perplexed and he swallowed before touching her face, his gloved fingers just barely brushing the injury. "Ouch," she replied, bringing her own hand up. "You'd think I'd remember getting that, wouldn't you?" Her smile was weary.

In response, Stonewall pulled out the medipac from his kit and removed a few items. "I have some bacta..." he said, keeping his voice steady as he offered the supplies.

"It doesn't really matter, Stone," she said with a shrug. "I'll be fine." Her voice was resigned.

"You're wounded," he countered. "You need medical attention."

She gave him a wry look. "Are you a doctor?"

He hesitated. "No, nor a medic, but I know what the beginnings of an infection look like."

"Very well," she said after a beat. Hair pulled back, she turned her cheek to him. "Patch me up, if you want."

After removing his gloves and gauntlets and making sure his hands were clean, he pulled out a disinfecting wipe from the kit and carefully daubed away any dirt that was around the wound, trying not to think about how close they were, or the way her body moved every time she took a breath. The bacta was next; due to the nature and placement of the injury he had to use it in its gel form, which he applied with a swab of cotton. She held very still now and he tried not to notice how warm her skin was beneath his fingers when they inevitably brushed against the side of her face.

The bacta in place, he added a light touch with the spray-bandage, ensuring that everything was clean and secure before he leaned back and nodded with satisfaction. Her hand crept to her cheek as she smiled at him. "Thank you, Stone," she said quietly. "It does feel better."

"You have to take care of yourself, Kalinda," he replied, stowing the medipac in its proper place. "You're too valuable to not." The words left his mouth before he knew it, but she didn't seem to notice his embarrassment as she sighed and glanced up at the darkening sky.

"It looks like it's going to rain again. You should get some rest while you can."

* * *

As it turned out the respite was momentary, for they were ambushed by a group of droidekas and super battle droids that provided an evening's worth of fighting. It was perhaps an hour or so before dawn when the Jedi finished off the last of the tinnies and the Republic forces were able to regroup. Miraculously, they had suffered casualties no more serious than a broken leg, so the mood was marginally convivial as the troopers made their way to the rendezvous point where the transports had been called to pick them up.

Stonewall glanced around the RV point; it was at the edge of the binka forest, at the bottom of a sloping hill that faced eastward. There was a large area to one side where the transports were supposed to land and most of his men were congregating, along with General Skywalker's platoon, chatting and winding down from the hectic nature of the mission. He saw no sign of Kalinda, so he made his way to the top of the hill to take a last look at the countryside. There wasn't much to see on the backwater planet besides farmland-most of which had been torn up by the recent battle-but his gaze wasn't directed at the ground once he caught a glimpse of the sky. After a few moments the captain slipped back down the hill and began looking for her in earnest, finding her stepping out of a thick patch of woods beyond the group of the soldiers.

"Kalinda," he said, putting his hand on her arm. "Come with me."

"Stone...what's wrong?"

He shook his head and urged her again. "It's important." Though he could see the confusion in her eyes she followed him to the top of the hill, glancing behind them every few moments. When they reached the zenith he simply stood back and watched her expression as she took in the Agamarian sunrise.

Where the sky had been gray and overcast for their entire time on the planet it was now streaked with myriad shades of pink, saffron, gold, lavender and crimson. The clouds that had dominated the horizon had parted and begun to flee, their remains catching the light and colors of the dawn in a display that marveled anything he'd ever seen; from the look on her face he could see that she felt much the same way. After several moments of her gaze fixed on the sky almost hungrily, Kali turned to him and he was startled to see her eyes bright with tears.

"Thank you, Stone," she whispered. "It's...it's perfect."

"I...I didn't do it," he replied lamely. "I just thought you'd want to see..."

She gave him a true smile then and leaned up to him, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Stone." Turning back to the sky she inhaled deeply as she watched the dawn cresting over the horizon. The rosy light had tinted her skin, a quiet breeze gently toyed with her hair as she smiled at him again. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Yeah," he replied, not looking at the sky. "It is."


	4. Beware The Halla

**Beware the _Halla_**

It was strange to be back on Coruscant after being in the field for so many months, though Stonewall couldn't say that he was sorry to be in a non-hostile situation for once; after several grueling campaigns, General Halcyon's platoon had at last been granted leave and he was looking forward to nothing so much as a hot shower and a good meal. The officer's 'fresher in the clone's Coruscanti barracks was mostly empty and he was able to properly wash for the first time in...well, a long while. Too long. Turning the water as hot as he could stand it, Stonewall stood beneath the stream for several minutes, letting it sluice across his skin before he grabbed the soap and began to wash in earnest. At that moment, his comlink-which he'd set just outside the stall-began chirruping. With a sigh he reached for it, activating the device to voice-only.

"Captain Stonewall here."

"Are you busy?"

He felt the familiar flutter in his stomach at the sound of her voice. "General Halcyon?"

She sighed. "_Kalinda,_ Stone. We've been over this since Mandalore."

"Right. Sorry," he winced. "Not really. Just hitting the showers before I grub up in the caf."

"Grub up in the...what?" Her confusion was palpable and he smiled.

"Get some dinner in the mess hall."

He heard her chuckle. "Ah. I see. Well, we're on the same wavelength, then, except I want some real food after months of military rations; I was thinking of heading to CoCo town for a meal this evening. Want to join me?"

The stall was steaming around him, fogging everything as he took a deep breath. "Sure. When and where?"

"You're at the barracks, right?" she asked. "Well, I've finished the briefing at the Temple...let me head to my quarters to shower and change into something that doesn't smell like week-old bantha fodder. Meet me here in half an hour? Or is that too long? I know you must be hungry."

He shook his head before he remembered that she couldn't see him. Feeling foolish he cleared his throat. "No, that should be fine. At the entrance to the Temple?"

"Sounds like a plan. See you soon." The transmission ended abruptly and he took a deep breath as he set the comlink down and turned back to the shower, the pleasure of being clean now overridden by the anticipation of seeing Kalinda again, without the shriek of blaster fire or the hum of her lightsaber punctuating their conversation. He finished his shower, toweling off before he headed back to his room and began rummaging through his pack for his civilian clothes which were neatly folded at the bottom, though they didn't smell very clean. Certainly not acceptable wear when having dinner with a Jedi General, anyway.

However, the problem was easily corrected, as the barracks were supplied with almost anything the clones could need, including a fresh set of civilian clothes. Normally he felt naked without his armor, but he thought that it might be more out of place than not, especially in this instance.

Minutes later he was slipping on his belt and checking that his boots were clean and free of scuff-marks, glancing around the small quarters to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. As a Captain he shared a room with only a few of the others, though it was empty right now. He could hear several of his brothers outside his door as they walked to the 'freshers, laughing and joking with one another. A glance at his chrono told him that he had several minutes to spare but he decided to go ahead and leave, just in case.

The Jedi Temple was only a few minutes away via one of the ubiquitous shuttles that had begun running back and forth between the Senate district, the barracks, and various other locations since the start of the Wars, transporting officers and other personnel. Soon Stonewall was heading up the series of steps that led to the Temple, glancing at the statues that dominated either side of the walkway. There were few Jedi about, as most of them were involved in the fighting, but he stopped to salute a group of younger Padawans who goggled at him before turning away and giggling. _Younglings, _he thought with a shrug before he walked through the open plaza that led to the entrance to the Temple itself. The open doors were massive, impossibly large and imposing; he noted that there were no guards stationed at the entrance, though why the Jedi would need guards he wasn't sure. Beyond them lay a wide atrium, filled with more statues, though everything looked a little worse for wear; there were scuff-marks on the floor and paint was beginning to chip off of the walls. _No manpower to spare to fix up the little things, _Stonewall thought as he glanced around the open area.

Suddenly his comlink chirped, Kalinda's voice sounding once he activated it. "You're here, aren't you?" She sounded dismayed and he felt a flash of concern.

"I am," he replied, his voice careful. "In the atrium."

"Er...I'm running a few minutes late," she said. "Long story. I'll be there in a second, Stone."

Relief coursed through him. "It's no trouble, Kalinda. I'll be here."

True to her word she was only several minutes late, though they seemed to drag by for him while he pretended to study the architecture of the Temple. Finally he saw a nearby door slide open to reveal her familiar form, smiling at him as she approached. Like him, she was dressed in civilian clothes, though hers were certainly not military issue; she wore a sleeveless tunic dress the color of the sky that hit just above her knees, though she had on her familiar Jedi boots; her long, dark hair she had woven into a single plait down her back, though wisps of hair were already coming undone around her face.

"Thanks for being so patient," she said by way of greeting when they met in the center of the atrium. She nodded to the way he'd come in and they set off. "I had a slight wardrobe malfunction, so I had to make do with this dress."

"I almost wore my armor," he said after a moment as they walked down the stairs. "But I thought this might be more appropriate."

"Definitely," she replied. "You look good." Though she said it in an offhand way, he felt a glow of happiness from the words as they walked. "Now," she said, turning to him. "The most important question: what do you want to eat?"

A lifetime of eating carefully prepared rations and tasteless dietary supplements had left him ill-equipped to form an acceptable response. "You choose. I don't really know what the city has to offer."

Her grin was immediate and slightly dangerous. "You are _so _going to regret that."

The restaurant where they eventually found themselves was so small that he almost missed it entirely as they strode down the darkening streets, the evening lamps turning on in their wake. Finally she stopped and gestured to a dingy looking door to their right with a flickering sign above it that read "Zorba the Great's;" he held the old-fashioned door open for her as they slipped into the place. Immediately, his senses were assaulted by a barrage of strange smells, sounds, and sights: the air was saturated with the scent of grilling food mingled with a fragrant incense; patrons and staff alike shouted and called to one another across the small space, trading friendly insults or complimenting the food; the interior walls and pillars were covered in colorful yards of fabric, embroidered with gold and silver thread as well as myriads of tiny mirrors that glinted in the light of iron lamps that hung from the ceiling at random intervals.

"What kind of food do they have here?" Stonewall asked as they wound their way through the multitude of tables and chairs to an empty spot that she had noticed.

"The delicious kind," she replied, ducking out of the way before a waiter nearly collided with her as he rushed by. When they reached their destination, a small table in the far corner of the room, she slid into one of the padded, high-backed chairs; he sat opposite her and glanced at the menu in front of him to get an idea of what he was in for. After several minutes he looked back at her.

"I have no clue what any of this is, Kali."

She grinned at him and shook her head. "I've got it covered, Stone." A harried-looking Dugg server passed by their table, pausing only when Kali raised her arm and called to him. He muttered to her in a strange language and she pointed to the menu, naming several dishes. "And can we have two glasses of starfruit _lassi, _please?" The server snatched the menus out of her hands and bustled away, muttering something under his breath as he did so.

Stonewall glared at his retreating back. "Doesn't he know you're a Jedi?"

"Why should he?"

He shrugged. "You...the Jedi, I mean, deserve respect, not to be mouthed off to by a civilian."

"Remember what I told you about hiding in plain sight?" she asked. "Sometimes anonymity is a nice change." Her tone turned thoughtful and her distant gaze fell at a spot just beyond him. After a moment she straightened as their drinks arrived: two tall glasses of a swirling pink and green iced-beverage as well as a basket of flat,warm bread. Only when he smelled the bread did Stonewall realize how hungry he was; as if in response his stomach let out a growl. If she noticed she didn't say anything, just raised her glass and indicated that he should do the same. The cups clinked together and she smiled. "To a well-earned rest."

Smiling, Stonewall sipped the drink and was startled at the vibrancy of the flavors that danced across his tongue. "It's delicious," he said to the question in her gaze. "I've never tasted anything quite like it."

As it turned out, that was the theme of the evening. They talked for some time-he wasn't sure how long-until the food arrived, a vast array of covered plates and small bowls, each one looking and smelling completely foreign to him. It was rather intimidating. The Dugg dropped off a second basket of bread before he was called away to another table. Immediately, Kalinda began dismantling the food, pulling lids off plates and heaping portions onto her plate with a large spoon that had come with the meal. "Since we don't know what you like," she said, spooning something the color of saffron and the consistency of muja-sauce onto a pile of what looked like rice. "I'm going to give you a little bit of everything. Grab some bread-it's great with the nuna sauce," she added, indicating a bowl of something green in the center of the table.

Fascinated, he watched as she divvied up the food before passing the plate to him and reaching for his empty one. When hers was full she leaned across the table and pointed to several of the portions in front of him. "That's pretty spicy," she said, her hand hovering over a piece of meat that had been rolled in an assortment of herbs. "And that as well...this one's not so bad, but watch out for the _halla_," she added, nodding to something he didn't see. "It's brutal. Alright..." she surveyed her handiwork with pride. "Let's dig in."

"I didn't get any flatware," he said, peering through the mass of dishes. "Should we call the Dugg back?"

Her fingers were halfway to her mouth, holding a piece of bread dipped in the green sauce. "Nope," she grinned, wriggling her free hand. "Just use your hands, soldier."

Nodding, he selected a piece of bread and dipped it into a pot of a thick, meaty-smelling substance before taking a cautious bite. He was rewarded by a burst of taste, savory and salty, with a tang that he couldn't place but found that he quite liked. "It's really good," he said, looking up at Kali, who was eagerly biting into a piece of some kind of potato-like substance drizzled with white sauce. Since her mouth was full she simply gave him a "thumbs-up" gesture, which he returned with a grin.

They ate in relative silence for several minutes before he selected a piece of bread and dipped it into a nearby bowl. Her mouth was still full, but her eyes widened as he popped the bread into his mouth. "What is it?" he asked, dipping more bread in the sauce. "Is something wr..." The clone captain trailed off as he felt what appeared to be a smoldering fire forming in his gut, creeping up his windpipe and erupting out of his mouth in a coughing fit. Sweat beaded across his face and his entire body felt like it was aflame, so he grabbed his drink and guzzled it down to try and quench the fire, but it didn't help.

Kalinda was hiding her grin behind her right hand, but she held out the basket of bread with her left. "This will help." As he shoved the bread in his mouth, the fire subsided to a more tolerable flicker; when he looked back at her she was laughing in earnest.

"I tried to warn you, Stonewall," she chuckled, sipping her drink. "That _halla_ is no joke."

Stonewall took a deep breath and ran his hand over his forehead; he was still sweating, but most of the heat had dissipated. "You did," he said at last, his voice more of a gasp than anything else. "Wow...that was intense."

"You okay?" she asked, putting a cool hand over his. The touch was as unexpected as the food, and for a moment he found it difficult to speak in a way that had nothing to do with the subsiding fire in his throat. "More bread?"

"No, I'm fine," he said at last. "Just...wow. Remind me never to eat that again." He glanced at the offending bowl warily and she chuckled, lifting her hand to select a piece of meat and dip it into the _halla,_ popping the whole thing in her mouth with no trouble. He shook his head as he watched her cheeks go a little pink, but she seemed otherwise unaffected by the spice. "You have an amazing mouth," he said, though the instant the words left his lips he winced. "That...er...came out wrong. Sorry."

She cleared her throat and sipped her drink. "What? I didn't catch that."

"I said this food is amazing," he said, silently thanking whatever gods that might be listening that she didn't hear his original words.

Her dark eyes regarded him across the crowded table as she licked the remaining sauce off of her fingertips. "It really is. I love this place." She glanced around at the bustling crowd and then back at him. "We'll have to come here again."

Stonewall nodded and returned her smile. "We certainly will."


	5. The Space Between

_This story takes place directly before _Awakening, _which you should totally check out if you haven't yet. If you have, you might recognize hints of things to come..._

**The Space Between**

"Ready to go?"

"Absolutely, General." Stonewall winced as she shot him a look. "Kalinda," he amended as they boarded the ship, a small transport vessel that would carry them to the far-flung arms of the Outer Rim to the planet Mundali. They didn't have much in the way of belongings but he had a standard-issue pack that held their rations and other necessities, along with enough weapons and ammo to take down a platoon of clankers, if it came to that.

While she prepped the ship, Kalinda eyed the munitions as he ensured that everything was stowed properly. "Do you really anticipate needing that much firepower?"

He triple-checked that his Deece was not loaded before he was satisfied, settling it inside the storage area in the ship's midsection. "Hopefully not, but it never hurts to come prepared for any contingency. Besides," he shot her a grin. "You brought _your_ toys."

"_I _brought musical instruments," she countered as the ship began to ascend to the hyperlanes above the glittering sphere that was Coruscant at night. "Which, by the way, _you've _been neglecting, Captain."

Sliding into the co-pilot's seat, Stonewall ran his eyes over the console, ensuring that everything was as it should be. "Then I guess that means I'll have to practice." Traffic was fairly heavy here, but since they were on a mission for the Jedi Council, their craft was permitted to forgo the usual waiting line and slip into the hyperlane minutes after they'd taken off. Stonewall watched as the stars streaked by, a sight he didn't think he'd ever grow tired of. "We should be there in approximately thirty-three hours," he said, indicating the navcomputer's display. "Not a short trip."

"But an important one, nonetheless. If the Republic's bacta supplies run any lower, we'll be in big trouble." After activating a series of controls, Kalinda sighed and leaned back into the chair, watching the flickering display that indicated that the autopilot had been engaged. She glanced at him. "Thirty-two hours, fifty-six minutes to go. Up for a game of sabacc?"

They played almost ten hands before growing bored with the game. Well, Stonewall knew that he would have kept going as long as she was interested, but her attention had inevitably shifted to the instruments that she was pulling out of her pack. The small, dual-sided drums-_tablas-_she handed to him before taking her dulcimer and laying it to one side; he watched as she removed a much larger case than he'd ever seen before from the cargo hold beneath the sleeping pallets that doubled as a seating area. "What is _that_?"

Making no response, Kali raised her brow and flicked the latches open with a casual wave of her hand, revealing what looked to be a large dulcimer. "This is a brushed ion-steel gitar," she said, pulling the instrument out of the padded case with reverence, running her hands over the neck before setting it in her lap. It was several times larger than the dulcimer, though it had more or less the same shape and was made of a silver-colored metal that had been polished to a shine, though there were already a few fingerprints on its surface. Aside from a bit of engraved scroll-work at the pick-guard, the instrument was free of decoration. She shut the case and settled herself on the bench, glancing to the front of the ship to ensure that everything was still well before nodding to him. "Start us off, if you please."

Stonewall had taken the seat opposite her, holding the _tablas_ at his side; at her word he began playing a simple rhythm, anxious to hear the new instrument. He was rewarded when, a few moments in, she moved her fingers over the strings. The resulting sound was resonant in a way that he had never before imagined and he was immediately captivated. Absorbed in the music, Kalinda began playing a gentle melody that grew in complexity and volume until Stone felt the hairs on his arms prickle as the music seemed to touch some deep, hidden part of him. Light from the ship's console glinted off of the gitar as she shifted slightly, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted as her fingertips danced across the strings.

The drums sat at in his lap, forgotten, as he watched and listened.

Finally she paused and looked at him, her expression a little dazed. "You stopped."

He glanced down at the _tablas_ and shook his head. "Nothing I can do with these compares to what you were doing with _that_."

"That's not true," she said with a smile. "Any instrument has potential, Stone, as long as the person who's behind it is willing to learn." She ran her hands fondly along the sides of the gitar. "My old master, Jonas, was the best ion-steel gitar player I've ever heard," she added. "No one else could ever come close, though Force knows I've tried."

"I find that hard to believe," he replied. "After that performance."

Kali raised her brow at him. "Do you want to try?"

Stonewall looked at the shiny instrument dubiously. "I don't think that'd be a good idea, Kali. I'm still struggling with this little drum."

"You're much better than you give yourself credit for, Stone," she replied, patting the seat next to her and indicating that he should move over. "Just give it a shot, okay? Who knows?" she added as he sat beside her on the padded seat. "This might be your true calling. Maybe you were born to play the hell out of the ion-steel."

The gitar was heavy and awkward in his hands, but it was breathtakingly beautiful. "My true calling is to take down as many droids as I can before I die," he remarked, studying the strings. "And I wasn't born. I was decanted in a jar along with thousands more just like me." His tone was absent; at her sharp intake of breath he looked at her, bewildered. "Kali? Are you okay?"

The Jedi was staring at him as though she had never seen him before, her dark eyes were wide as they concentrated on his face; he felt a flash of concern at her reaction, so he braced the gitar and put his left hand beside her right one, which was resting on the bench. "What is it?"

She swallowed, the movement of her throat momentarily distracting him. "You're more than that, Stone," she said at last. Her voice was quiet. "Much more."

He chuckled. "It's kind of you to say so, but we both know that it's a lie." Feeling daring, he plucked several of the strings at once, grinning at the sound that emanated. "Wow. This thing is amazing." He glanced at her again, noting how her expression had turned thoughtful. "Will you show me some chords, please?"

Nodding, she moved her hands over his, positioning the fingers of his left hand in the proper way before he ran those of his right along the strings, just over the slender opening at the center of the gitar's body. "That's a basic one," she said. "But it's useful to know because, with only a few adjustments-" her hands closed over his to re-position his fingers; her skin was soft and warm. "You can make several more chords. There are many little shortcuts like that, but I won't go into them right now." She gave him a small smile which he returned after a moment, though he felt his skin growing warmer from her touch.

It was easier than he'd imagined to play the chords; after all, like all clones he was excellent at absorbing and assimilating new information. His body had been trained to recall lessons with perfect clarity, his mind was able to distinguish even the most subtle differences in tone: in battle, that could be the difference between recognizing different types of weapons or explosives. Life or death. After an hour or so he was able to transition between about five chords with little difficulty, though he had no clue how to go about putting the notes together in a pleasing manner. Looking up at her, he said as much.

"That's the fun part," Kalinda said with a smile. She had remained seated next to him, offering advice or instruction if he faltered, but mostly she was just watching his movements. "You're a fast learner, Stone," she added. "It took me quite a bit longer to get to where you are."

He grinned at her. "Really?"

Her returning smile was wide. "Don't get cocky, soldier," she replied wryly. "I was only eight when I started playing."

Stonewall ducked his head, chuckling. "My mistake, Kali." He glanced back up at her, momentarily distracted by her eyes on his face. "What is it?"

"You're a marvel," she said after a moment. "Do you realize that?"

"That implies that I am one-of-a-kind," he replied, plucking at the strings. "Which is definitely _not _the case."

Her hand was on his cheek; the music stopped as he met her gaze. "You have no idea, do you?" she whispered. She was warm and if he inhaled deeply he could smell her skin-fragrant and familiar. "You have no idea how special you are."

He couldn't speak, could hardly think; his heart felt like it would burst out of his chest and his vision focused, laser-like onto her eyes as he was gripped with a desperate desire to kiss her. Kali's lips parted and he was just making the decision to lean forward and close the space between them when an urgent beeping sound erupted from the ship's console. Within moments they were both at the helm, checking the controls. Stonewall glared at the navcomputer. "I can't see what's wrong. Malfunction?"

The blue light from the console cast her eyes in a luminescent glow as she looked at him. "I'm not sure. Nothing appears to be wrong, but..." He watched as she shivered slightly. "Something's definitely going on."


	6. No Words

_This takes place during _Awakening; _just a little scene that popped into my head. _

_

* * *

_

**No Words**

Time fell away when she was in his arms, making it difficult to imagine existence prior to this moment when she lay nestled in the crook of his shoulder, her breathing slow and deep in the aftermath of their passion. Stone ran his fingertips over the faint hairs on her upper arm and watched in awe as her skin prickled. The knowledge that he could make another person react in such a way with the lightest touch amazed him, as did the burgeoning realization that he was capable of something besides firing a blaster with perfect accuracy.

Kali shifted and murmured something unintelligible and he held his breath, wondering if she would wake; she stilled, however, her arm tightening across his torso as she gave a sigh that indicated nothing so much as contentment.

He knew how she felt. Though he was tired as well, sleep eluded him, so he decided to commit every second of this moment to his mind, a task that he was well-suited for. Stonewall smiled as the thought struck him: like all of his brothers, he'd been given a memory that was near-photographic, the clones' ability to recall facts and images they'd only absorbed once before was about as perfect as any Human could get. So he took her in, all of her: from her tousled dark hair that fell down the curve of her back to her slender ankles and feet that were currently resting atop his own. The moment was the essence of happiness, distilled and placed before him as a cup of the sweetest wine; he longed to drink and drink until he would burst with it.

"Hello there." Her voice, clear as if she had not been completely asleep mere moments ago, brought him out of his reverie. She moved upright to regard him. "You're awake."

He nodded and looked down at her; the glow in her eyes, the symbol of her possession, had returned with full force, but for one moment he wanted only to lie beside her like this. "Hi."

"How's it going?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Pretty good. You?"

In response, she leaned over him, her hair falling on either side of his face; there was one, soft kiss against his lips before she gave him a sly grin. "Excellent, now that we're both awake." Beneath her skin he could feel her pulse quicken; his own following suite.

And it began again.

* * *

_Author's note: Wow...great response to these! Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing these little drabbles. Writing these has made me want to write a somewhat...different Kali/Stone fic. I've started an AU story that takes place at the end of _Old Wounds, _with one pretty major difference. Hopefully I'll have the first installment done soon, so stay tuned. Again, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed; I can't really tell you guys how happy it makes me to know that these are being enjoyed. You all kick ass! :)_


	7. Namana

_This story takes place some time after _Warriors of Shadow.

**Namana**

It was very, very late and the ship was quiet.

Kalinda's eyes opened as she felt Stonewall's presence enter her quarters after his turn at the helm ended; he slipped into bed beside her, his skin still slightly damp. "How was the shower?" The words were punctuated by a yawn.

"Very nice," he replied as he lifted his arm and she slid next to him. "Even nicer when we're not being shot at, like every other night this week. Milo's at the helm now and we should arrive on schedule." He allowed himself a yawn and she felt his chest rise and fall with the motion and nothing was said for several moments as they drifted between sleep and wakefulness.

Relaxing into the familiar, warm press of his side, Kali inhaled deeply. "You smell nice," she murmured. "Familiar." Another inhale and she tilted her head up to regard him, eyebrow cocked. "Did you use my soap?"

Honey-brown eyes met hers, though he hesitated. "Only a little," he admitted at last, running a hand through his damp hair.

"You used my soap." She was wide awake now, sitting up to regard him.

He swallowed. "I-"

"The special, hand-made, scented soap, the only thing that makes me forget that we've spent the last month crawling around the jungle _and _gets the smell of tibanna out of my hair?" She gave him a mock glare.

The sides of his mouth quirked in a smile, even as her glare deepened. "Er..."

"_After_ I asked you not to?"

At last he exhaled. "Yes, Kali. I did. I used your soap." He raised his eyebrow at her. "I assume the court-marshal is forthcoming?" He reached forward and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Tomorrow I'll draw up the paperwork." The words were said with a grin and he pulled her closer and kissed her forehead.

"Then I look forward to it."

With a sigh she leaned back against him, slipping her hand around his torso while resting her head against his shoulder. "Stone," she said after a moment. "You do realize that you smell like namana fruit, right?"

"And?" he replied. "I like namana." His arm tightened around her shoulders and she began to chuckle. "What's so funny?" he asked, looking down at her.

"You _like_ namana..." She was giggling in earnest now, pressing her mouth to his skin and squeezing her eyes shut.

Tilting his head down to her, Stone frowned. "Yes...but I don't understand what part of that is so amusing to you."

Kali grinned and shook her head. "It's just...I don't know many people who'd admit to actually _wanting _to smell like a namana fruit. There's nothing wrong with it," she added as she peered up at him again. "It's just uncommon."

A sly grin crept to his mouth as he put a hand against her chin to tilt her face towards his. "What can I say? I'm a rebel."

* * *

_A/N: If you're curious, namana is actually a SW "thing," according to Wookieepedia, at least!_


	8. Impression

_Not sure where this came from, but it takes place during _All or Nothing _and references events from _Old Wounds_, where Kali and Stone first met._

* * *

**Impression**

Stonewall watched her face flame as she replied. "I said no such thing."

He shook his head and tapped the side of his head. "Perfect recall, remember? You did."

Kalinda sighed and cast her eyes to the sky; her cheeks were pink and he knew that it was not entirely due to the fact that they were sitting before a campfire on the Outer-Rim world of Japarran. Her dulcimer rested in her lap, forgotten for a moment as they'd started reminiscing. "I don't believe it, Stone. I _never _said that."

The others were seated around them, listening. "He's right, General," Milo said. "Our memories are perfect. Bred for it." The youngest clone flashed her a grin and she shook her head, though she was smiling as well.

"It doesn't sound like you," Crest added. "I mean, it sounds...well..." He trailed off and looked at the fire. "A little..."

She arched her brow at him, daring him to say it. "What, Crest?" Silence. She sighed and lifted the dulcimer, plucking the strings for a few moments.

Stonewall watched her; he didn't think he would ever get tired of the way that her face transformed with her smile, or the sound of her voice against his ears. From his place across the fire from her, he could see how the light cast her skin in a luminous glow. For the thousandth time he wondered what it would be like to run his hand along the smooth skin of her cheek. _Stop, _he told himself. _Stop it. She's a Jedi Knight and your CO, not some random floozy at a cantina. She deserves the utmost respect at all __times and you can't go blowing your new promotion in the second month, okay? Keep your mind on the mission. Nothing else. _He dropped his gaze to the fire, listening to the music.

"Maybe you're thinking of some other Jedi, Stone." The words were spoken idly, almost indiscernible through the music, but he heard them anyway.

He shook his head without hesitation. "That's not possible." The words slipped out before he had a chance to check himself and he silently cursed his impropriety.

Beside him, he noticed that Crest's brow lifted, though he said nothing. The others were only listening to the music. After another moment, the bald clone cleared his throat. "So, you met at Basrah? I heard about that skirmish."

Stonewall nodded. "It was...exciting."

Across from him, she laughed. "Exciting. That's one word for it." Her dark eyes met his and he felt warm and strange inside and it had little to do with the flickering fire between them. She paused and shook her head. "You wanted to carry my pack, even though I'm clearly capable of doing that on my own."

At this he felt his skin heating up even more, especially when the other clones looked at him. "Why's that?" Traxis' voice was genuinely curious.

_It might not be protocol to discuss her limp. _For him there was more to it than her old injury, of course. She had an air about her, something that drew out instincts that he didn't know he had. He wanted to protect her, though he knew that was a silly thing to think about a Jedi Knight. If she could create a shield of mystical energy around them to withstand the cold vacuum of space as well as come through torture at the hands of the notorious Asajj Ventress relatively unscathed, she most certainly did _not_ need his protection. _She's more than capable. I don't understand why I feel this way about her. _

"You have a very chivalrous captain," she replied. "At least, that was my first impression. I'm not often wrong about these things." Her dark eyes caught his again and she smiled. He returned the look.

Weave cleared his throat. "Then what happened?"

_The moment I saw you, I never wanted to look away. _The thought struck him like a blaster-bolt for all that he held still. Finally he managed a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Not much. There was a skirmish, if I recall. And that bald witch made an appearance."

The Jedi looked at him, her expression thoughtful. "Now you're being modest. Ventress knocked me out and took me prisoner aboard her ship; your good captain there stowed aboard and came to my rescue...despite the fact that the odds were _not _in his favor."

"I heard about that part," Weave said. "You used the Force to escape her ship, didn't you, General?" He sounded awed. "It kept you safe in open space, as I recall?"

She nodded and shot Stonewall another look; from across the fire her skin seemed to ripple with the heat. He could still feel her in his arms, as he'd had to carry her to help her conserve her strength for the difficult task of focusing the Force-energy to keep them safe. This memory brought another one to his mind, the image of her shuddering and convulsing, as the cold of space had managed to seep to her skin despite her efforts. _General Kenobi rescued us just in time. _Her lips had been almost blue; she had been drifting in and out of consciousness as he held her, as they'd been rescued. He could still feel her trembling in his arms as he'd said her name again and again.

* * *

Later, the others had drifted into their own conversations and she had risen to step to the woods. "Mind keeping it safe for me?" He looked up to see her standing before him, holding the dulcimer.

"Of course, General." He took the slender instrument and set it carefully in his lap, watching as she slipped into the darkness. Once she'd gone, he examined the polished woodgrain, noting how it was worn but clearly well-cared for. It was as unfamiliar as it was beautiful. He glanced up; the others were engrossed in a heated debate about bolo-ball, so he took a moment to run his fingers across the strings, lightly, so as not to make too much noise. The resulting sound was remarkable.

"Would you like a lesson?"

Startled, he glanced up. She had returned silently and was watching him with a bemused expression. Stonewall shook his head and handed the dulcimer back to her. "I'm afraid I wouldn't get much use out of it," he said. "What's a clone going to do with a musical instrument?"

She took a seat beside him and shrugged as she toyed with the strings. "May as well put that 'perfect recall' to good use."

He laughed. The fire was warm and he could feel her body close to his; he was so _aware _of her it was unsettling. _I could reach my arm around her shoulders. _He shook his head at the strange, intimate thought. _No. It's too much. I'm a clone and she's a Jedi Knight. We're too different. I shouldn't let these thoughts creep in any more. _

He cast her another look; she was toying with the dulcimer again, her eyes on the strings, her lips slightly parted in concentration. _I wonder what it would be like to kiss her._

Kalinda Halcyon lifted her eyes to his and something in his throat tightened at her gaze, making him wonder for a moment if he'd somehow broadcast his thoughts to her.

"Stone, did I ever thank you for saving my life?"

The words were unexpected. He blinked once. "Yes, General." He frowned, as she'd asked him not to call her by the title any longer. "Kalinda." It was still strange for him to say her name.

She nodded, her mouth curving into another smile. "Good." They were so close. There was only a breath of space between them, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy.

But still. Her smile widened and he knew that he was lost. For good.


End file.
